Flying Drones
The problem with combat pilots
is they have no noble commands
beyond secret political kill orders
of their covert CIA target missions.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
Containment Protocol Initiated
Military will shoot kill civilians
orders are orders
if that's what they are ordered to do?
Training is training
follow orders through and through
that's what we are trained to do?
Military will shoot kill civilians
if ordered to do so?
We are trained to follow orders?
The penalty for not follower orders
in combat... death by firing squad?
Would you follow orders? Do you?
We are trained to follow orders?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Orders From Headquarters
Mathew 20: 28
Just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and give His life as a ransom for many
Jesus himself came to follow orders. And a great one too. To sacrifice His life for ours. To save us.
Not many like to take orders. Yet in reality, we take orders everyday. Whether it's work, school, parents, or even sports. We are all obliged to take orders whether we like it or not. Why is that though?
Most of the time we take orders from those we need. For example, your boss at work. You take his orders because you need the money. Or your teachers. You take their commands because you're looking to graduate.
In retrospect, we need to follow God's orders because we need Jesus more than anything in this world. He's our provider, our light, our breath of everyday, our everything.
He gave us orders, and that's to serve Him. So how much more do we need to carry out His orders? Jesus did it. So how much more do we?
These are the orders from headquarters, carry out His commandments, seek Him. Evangelize, and care for others according to His will.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen.
poem by Rafael Barboza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Problems
Too many problems, oh why am I here?
I need to be me, cause youre all to clear
And I can see theres something wrong with you
Oh, what do you expect me to do?
At least I gotta know what I wanna be
Dont come to me if you need pity
Are you lonely, you got no-one
You got your body in suspension
Thats a problem, problem, problem
The problem is you
Eat your heart out on a plastic tray
You dont do what you want and you fade away
You work for me, youre working nine-to-five
Its too much fun of being alive
Im using my feet for my human machine
You work for me, living for the screen
Are you lonely, all needs catered
You got your brains dehydrated
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Oh what what you gonna do, problem, problem
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Well, what you gonna do with your problem
The problem is you, problem
I aint death trip, but I aint automatic
You work for me, just stay ecstatic
Dont you give me any orders
To people like me, there is no order
Bet you thought you had it all worked out
Bet you thought you knew what I was about
Bet you thought youd solved all your problems
But you are the problem
Problem, problem, problem, the problem is you
Oh, what you gonna do with your problem?
Ill leave it up to you, oh problem
The problem is you, you got a problem
Oh what you gonna do?
They know a doctor, gonna take you away
Thay take you away and they throw away the key
They dont want you and they dont want me
You got a problem the problem is you
Problem, well, what you gonna do?
Problem, have you got a problem?
Problem, well you got a problem
Problem (x17)
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Orders are orders
Orders are after all orders
As there is no room for wonderers
The land may be sacred for her
To claim as ancestral or land of mother
What do the solders know?
They have orders to throw
Any intruders if enters illegally
Just to face the trigger brutally
Soldiers will have to obey commander
As he is authorized to issue an order
He may be soldier first then human
Must keep no corner for man or woman
"Shoot the target" means shoot instantly
The orders may be fast and not spoken gently
It has forbearance of nationalism
Where everything is secondary including humanism
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red Tails.
Sixty seven years since the war,
Never heard of them or the story before.
A well kept secret of history,
The airmen of Tuskegee.
They were the 'Red Tails' fighter squadron,
An author stated, "As secret as the Atom Bomb."
The U.S set up an all 'Negro' squadron in secret,
Total segregation, the 'experiment' had to be separate.
Scepticism was rife, it was expected to fail,
Racism was blowing in full sail.
"They are not capable to fly, let alone fight,
Morally and mentally inferior, they have no bite."
Training was complete, preparation done,
Reality to meet, prove the doubters wrong.
Despatched to the front in Europe, Italy,
To their all 'Afro-American' base at Romatelli.
Pilots, cooks, mechanics, commanders on the base,
All had a 'non-white' face.
Orders and briefings, tactics and formations,
Courage and bravery on the missions.
Equally brave as the others, like their 'white brothers.'
Escorting the bombers over enemy territory.
Fulfilling their duty against tyranny.
They had earned a reputation,
Bomber crews requested their protection.
One of their kind shot down, out he had bailed,
All his fellow pilots, to see they had failed.
They all thought 'presumed dead', gone,
One of many lost fighting for freedom.
However he didn't perish, never died,
His Mustang 51, upside down, he 'fell' out and survived!
Captured and imprisoned for remainder of the war,
Liberated and on a ship, home he headed for.
Sailing past the statue of liberty,
A welcome and proud sight to see.
Crowds and flag waving on the dock side,
Cheering and shouts filled him with pride.
From the ship he was about to disembark,
Then reality hit him like a stab in the heart.
There were to be no gratitude or thanks,
As he approached the gang planks.
Pride and patriotism was suddenly not there,
Kicked in the teeth, hard to bare.
The sign stated, 'Whites to the left, Blacks to the right.'
He had returned back home to the 'old fight',
Back to the racism, where life was prejudiced,
To 'land of the free' where for a period he had missed.
332, fighter group squadron proved their metal,
112, of the the Nazi foes fate they did 'settle'!
The war had finished, their missions had ended.
All bar 27, bombers they had defended.
Fighting for freedom,66, were lost of their own,
Survivors still had to fight for freedom when they got home!
18/10/12
poem by Guy Lipmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Combat Soldier
Many accept the name of soldier,
Yet sit in the office, at the rear.
Whilst the real soldier, the combat soldier,
Fight the enemy, eye to eye.
Their uniforms dirty, faces weathered,
Hands rough, minds tethered.
They’ve seen death’s hand, reaching for them,
Their friend’s, death did condemn.
Their weapons are scratched, and used,
Long in the battle, they are abused.
These soldiers seek refuge, in the wire,
Where many spend the operation in its entire.
The combat soldier gets a short rest,
Only to go back out, confined by their vest.
For days they spend in a crosshair,
Terrorist seeking them, death they declare.
Combat soldier, many missions did you fulfill,
Many friends lost, forever still.
No esteem or awards will you receive,
Those with the rank, medals you will receive.
Though the combat soldier defends the post,
Their treated like the lowest, or a ghost.
The soldier and combat soldier, aren’t the same,
The only similarities are in the name.
The successful pilots succeeded because they did not open fire until they were close to the target.
quote by Douglas Bader
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Missions is not the ultimate goal of the church. Worship is. Missions exists because worship doesn't. Worship is ultimate, not missions, because God is ultimate, not man. When this age is over, and the countless millions of the redeemed fall on their faces before the throne of God, missions will be no more. It is a temporary necessity. But worship abides forever.
quote by John Piper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Political Warriors
Political warriors kill
Without a touch
With weapons of fear,
Division and strife
They snare
With a narrative of lies
Political warriors kill
Without a touch
They travel the nations
With their synthetic smiles
Hugging women and babies
For a photo op
Spend millions of dollars
To capture the airwaves
When the people are in need
Cannot find one to stand up
Political warriors kill
Without a touch
To cease power
Some cannibalize
These beasts are fierce
Relentless,
Deadly and wise
poem by Buxton Shippy
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But despite their heroic acts, the Vietnam Veterans of America continued to struggle to establish a combat badge in honor of these brave pilots and medics.
quote by Tim Holden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier
it is a nice life soldier
is it not? you are well fed
and you are given the power to kill
with rewards even
if you have killed many
of our enemies,
you are well traveled
and well trained
with all those free high powered guns
and ammunition
you do not have to spend any neuron
in your brain
you only follow orders
and that is what matters most
like a guard dog, a sniff dog that amazes
me at the airport
soldier, i like you, but i cannot be one like you
because for reasons unknown to you,
you also kill some of our
brothers in the name of the state
and this world, in the name of war and of peace
always following orders.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We can all be proud of our men and women in the military who are following their orders, carrying out their missions and sacrificing so much to give the Iraqi people a chance for a more peaceful and prosperous future.
All The Hatred Around Us
I am a target!
You are a target!
He is a target!
She is a target!
Because of the hatred around us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Empires Engage Roll Out New Map Exploitation
how easily is humanity lost
in flying wars of oiled invasion
in high tech hate flown destruction
in no fly zones target selection detonations
in widening expanding missions escalations
soon civilian buildings bodies are blown ruins
agendas political destroy people cities countries
laid waste lives in smoke screens of propaganda
as empires engage roll out new maps exploitations
seizing life liberty limbs in resource reallocation's
sanctified by justified speeches drumming applause's
safe sterilized push button decisions secure oiled profits
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pilots take no special joy in walking. Pilots like flying.
quote by Neil Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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War And Pain
In the smoke of the combat
No gods give you the guts
You see the fire in the sky
The bombs fall by your side
I put the powder in my gun
Let me free, let me run
Armed with swords and hash
I. run, kill and fight
I remove the knife in your sore
I beleive in the death's call
I live to kill, create war and pain
You die for fire, burns in flames
Our disaster is not complete today
We make no diffents because
You fall in fate
The war punishes, and the war resists
The wildness shouts
The blood burts out
We're going in hell tonight
For another loud attack
And you see in the mist
Black flag is my mast
The canons creep
In your desert to kill
And no defence, no forces
You're the blood lust victims
In the smoke of combat
No Gods give you the guts.
song performed by by Voivod
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I exhort you also to take part in the great combat, which is the combat of life, and greater than every other earthly combat.
Vietnam War Death By Colours
Agent Orange to kill vegetation
to deny enemy VC places to hide
to locate range find target exterminate
with imposed technical efficiency
moon scope landscape with bomb loads...
Agent Blue to kill crops
to starve enemy Viet Cong
it was war on food production
yet civilian slow death by starvation
was collateral desirable military strategy...
DOW chemists conspired to kill kill kill...
with every beautiful innocent colour of the rainbow? ? ?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be not mad of targets.
A target is given; you are in tension.
It seems a hard one; anxiety sets in.
You put extra efforts; you’re in stress.
Hurdles crop; you are in strain.
Hope fades; you are in pain.
Hope revives; you recover.
The target achieved; full of joy.
The target aborted; full of sorrow.
Take light the target and enjoy.
03.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Abraham
abraham hears the voice of God
to bring Isaac on top of Mt. Moriah
there he must kill his own son
his offering to the Lord, His God
the argument begins, why his God
must order him to kill his own son?
is this killing this murder not a sin?
does God make man to commit sin?
If One orders him to kill his own son
God? Is God in this not a murderer too?
the steps to Moriah are difficult thougths
yet Abraham, Abraham, do you Love
your God as God and none other?
kill your own son, Love of God?
you know how it ended. You know
how Abraham became the Father of Faith.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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